NaPoWriMo - Day Two 4/2/2013

It only rains on Tuesdays,
the bus always runs on time
Chef Ramsey never gets angry
you can buy anything you want with a dime.

Kitty cats never get sleepy
Little dogs never bite
Watched pots boil quickly
And the sun shines brightest at night.

Babies don't cry on airplanes,
Traffic never backs up,
Daryl Dixon loves zombies
And Cujo was s sweet little pup.

Cops have a great sense of humor,
Strippers love one dollar bills
Grizzly bears hate salmon
And ghosts never gave anyone chills.

Its always overcast in California
New Orleans is very dry,
New York is quaint and quiet
And Las Vegas is actually quite shy.

Tigers have no stripes,
Zebra's have spots
Cougars have some stripes
and Elephants have nots.

Ladies do not like chocolate
And men have never liked beer
Children love their vegetables
And ice cream never finds your rear.

Sitcoms are educational
Documentaries keep you awake
Models eat donuts for breakfast
And Playboy's pictures aren't fake.

Dandelions grow where you want them,
Grass will never need mowed
Bunnies don't really like clover
And rows have no need be hoed.

Writing always comes easy,
Novels are easy as pie,
Bloggers are never quite honest
And poets never, ever lie.





Support Michelle Fundraiser (Help Pay for Medical Expenses)

Breech - From Lies Sweetly Whispered

I met this you last week 
in a fusion 
of the real and 
a kind of longing for something more 
a gradually sudden discovery 
of things 
you never wanted to know. 

This you, so strange and new to me 
savoring the ability to wound 
brandishing your will 
like a knife, 
sharp steel, darting quickly and easily 
between sadist and martyr 
as I fell away 
into an unwanted awareness of 
suppression and denial. 

I don't remember exactly 
when it was you woke from nightmare 
to find me beside you 
the only place I could have been 
struggling like you 
to understand the chaos. 

It was a breech birth, 
a burden carried too far past term 
to come easily 
so you lay back 
angry 
at me, or God, or anyone 
who would come close enough 
to feel your pain. 

Now I see you days later, 
nursing your infant self, 
some nameless emotion 
etched in your face and eyes, 
the child squirms in your arms 
whimpering to be fed 
demanding your soul 

and you reach out 
to heaven--looking 
for a goddess to save you 
or a ray of sunshine to sustain you.


© Donna J. P. Riley